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#brett hand 80s
itsangelic1411 · 1 year
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Fem!Brett (let’s call her Britney) and male!Reagan cuz why not lol
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protagonist-art · 1 year
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BOW BEFORE MY TOTALLY TUBULAR POWERS!!
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yes i do the cooking, yes i do the cleaning
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vonnys-gae · 9 months
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Listen 80s Brett DOES things to me.
See you in another 6 months :3
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chey-speedylead · 1 year
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Inside job sona doodles i dont remember if i posted???
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qanyux · 1 year
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(2021 post !!) posting here cause i’ve seen it reposted everywhere and I’m not a fan of it bshdhejf also wanted to have an art acc on tumblr
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Dappy: I WANT MY FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS BACK
myc: NO FUCK YOU YOU GAVE THEM TO ME THEIR MINE
Myc is mean sometimes
Also yes finally got the rest of the crew ehehehehehehehhehewh
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And Andre deserves comfort in that episode ALL OF THEM DESERVE COMFORT and of the show won’t do it I WILL. >:(((
Also bonus for 80s movie night. (I actually can’t stand this scene in the movie in real life so this is accurate)
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Reagan: she has her eyes closed 80 percent of the time at work Brett
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r0ttente3th · 1 year
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i sincerely love him
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snarksparks · 1 year
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He is bbg. (First post??!! :0)
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gracimaep · 1 year
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BRETT HEADCANNONS
‧⠀⠀⨯⠀⠀⠀⠀ .⁺⠀⠀ ✦⠀⠀ * 𓂂⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⨯⠀⠀. ⁺   .
these are coming from a 80s obsessed brett kin with diagnosed social anxiety, a weird relationship with my family, and a golden retriever complex so it's basically like he's telling you himself tbh !
‧⠀⠀⨯⠀⠀⠀⠀ .⁺⠀⠀ ✦⠀⠀ * 𓂂⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⨯⠀⠀. ⁺  ‧⠀⠀⨯⠀⠀⠀⠀ .⁺⠀⠀ ✦
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• okay so first ones not really a headcannon but more just a detail that I feel like im the only one that remembers: brett plays guitar!!!!!!! maybe it was just my guitarist brain but I seen this in like the first episode and never forgot. he definitely will randomly pull out his guitar (like full on david cc style) and start playing like in the middle of like a meeting or some dumb shit. he probably plays down at like at some local Cafe or something on the weekends. all 80s too obviously
• brett loving the 80s definitely resulted in a lot of different more 80s ish themed hobbies/interest. Bowling, arcade games, roller skating yk shit like that
• he most definitely can break dance? obvs.
• i feel like music wise it would be a mix of 80s obvs but also like early 2000s since that around when he grew up. I honestly feel like it would also be really similar to patrick batemans music taste 💀 but definitely a lot of Whitney Houstin, Huey Lewis, Talking Heads, but also some Madona, Dave Matthew's (which was already mentioned in the show), Death Cab, The postal service, Lumineers, and Vance joy. I also get am receiving a very large Bee Gees presence in him.
• he definitely overthinks his suits a lot. he will put his all into perfectly selecting a suit and making sure everything about it is on point. it was definitely an anxiety thing that just turned into a habit over time
• speaking of the anxiety, he has a lot of shows—some obvious some not. For once the leg bouncing is definitely a thing; that's a given. But also counting, like literally anything, he will just count. and that finger digging thing?? you basically and kinda just like digging your thumb nail into your fingers??? I do it a lot and it's not like a sh thing I swear it's just an easy way to disperse negative energy when something kinda catches you off gaurd or whatever !!
•i feel like he would live in a really blank apartment: white walls, white sheets, white floors, minimal furniture—everything minimal. except for just a bunch of 80s posters everywhere. you walk into this man's apartment and you are met with micheal Jackson, jaws, Whitney Houston, breakfast club, back to the future, all that shit.
• he is a germaphobe. I can just feel it. Not really with physical contact—but more public spaces. He refuses to touch and door handles, railings, or anything unless there is a sink or hand sanitizer nearby. he probably just watched to much science shit from being left unattended when he was younger it its just built up a fear in him
• he tryst to get the gang to do ' team building activities ' like EVERY weekend. he does actually succeed sometimes. Such activities can include: twister, karaoke, board games / video games ( family game night 🤭 ) , disco parties. you get it.
• he is a horrible cook. he may have been left unattended but he still had plenty of butlers around to make him food thus removing the need to learn how to himself. he probably makes the worst concoctions known to man—like the shit you find on the lunch trays of feral middleschools that dare their friends to eat the mashed-potatoe-chocolate-milk-bannana-bean-taco-meat-old-hard-chelse kinda shit. we all have some horrific war flashback in mind. and he thinks he is a CHEF.
• despite that he probably makes really good smoothies!! being a gym trainer and everything he got really good at it and will craft the most heavenly shakes and smoothies to ever bless your tounge.
• ummmmmm love language physical touch who?? brett, that's who. not even romantically but he just loves physical contact. words are hard. hugs are not.
• he probably think he is like a Disney princess and is a friend to all animals and for the most part he is but bird are definitely his worst enemy I can 100% see him getting his ass bit by a goose or getting shit on by a duck while trying to feed it bread. reagan probably had to give him a lesson om why he shouldn't give ducks bread too. he cried when he found out why that's a no no.
• he surfs duh
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daiseception · 1 year
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Which was more culturally significant? The Renaissance or 80s Brett
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all-powerful-oats · 1 year
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It's been a hot minute since I posted 💔💔
Anyway he's a silly little painted drawing of Brett <3 I FUCKING LOVE THAT GUYS SM HES SO 8ZTISI
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80s Brett has my heart ♥️♥️
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toontownportraits · 2 years
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woo woo dance dance.png
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phantominzie · 1 year
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Brett Hand!
I got back into Inside Job guys! Personally I thought that '80s Brett was my absolute favorite version of him so I thought, "Hey, why not draw him?"
Sorry I've been gone! I've had my school Field Day (I was orange team), I had my final show tonight and I was the Bert understudy in Mary Poppins. I still got to sing, however and sung in "Let's Go Fly a Kite" and I got a rose at the end, which was really sweet! Any who, enough about my personal life, I hope you liked this!
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sin-sidejob · 1 year
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Nostalgia Max!Brett Hand x afab/fem!reader
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note: NSFW, 18+, Minors DNI, pet names, afab anatomy but no talk of tits in an effort to stick close to gender neutral, dominant brett hand, breeding kink, daddy kink, mommy kink, unprotected sex (wrap that rascal), slight exhibitionism, slight public sex, domestication, housewife kink, cum play, no pronouns but use of gendered pet names like mommy & others like sweet thing, baby, sweetheart, and babydoll.
You got separated from the group once Brett lost control, everything getting immersed in a hazy, green blast. Nothing worked when trying to calm him down, deescalate the situation and keep everyone safe. It blew up in y’all’s faces, literally. Waking up against rubble and debris, not seeing where you landed or where you are, you’re nervous.
There’s no modern tech on you and you’ve got no way to reach Reagan or Andre, get in touch with Gigi or Glenn or Myc. You’re absolutely alone until they find you. Or Brett finds you.
The two of you had been dating for a while, and you’re endlessly in love with him. Tirelessly and hopelessly in love with him. Brett’s a sweetheart and nothing but doting and kind to you, and he’s in therapy. How lucky are you?
Not as much now that he’s not himself and currently lethal, leveling several structures and sending you and your coworkers flying in different directions and under the influence of heavy chemtrails and 80’s nostalgia.
Your footsteps are tentative, wary of the unsteady rubble you walk upon and try to breathe through your shirt, pulled over your nose and squint through the dust in the air. There’s not much light, it’s dark out and nighttime. The cold seeps in more and that fear of being alone and vulnerable at night starts to sink in and soak your bones.
No weapons on your person, rendered useless and defenseless without any of your gear or comrades, it’s safe to say you’re terrified beyond all belief. Walking softly, slowly turning over chunks of masonry and debris to walk better and find a way out of the barely standing structure you find yourself in.
Moments pass and you try to think of other things like what you’ll do when you get home, if that show released it’s second part yet so you can stream it soon, and attempt pathetically to calm yourself. It’s not working.
You hear footsteps and you freeze, your body pressed to a wall and trying your best to hide in the looming shadows encompassing the formerly standing building. Pinpricks crawl up your neck and stand at the nape of your neck and across your arms. Your heartbeat has never seemed louder.
“Oh sweetheart, don’t you want to see me?”
it’s Brett, and you don’t see him but you hear him, can’t decipher where he is in relation to you from his voice, anywhere a possibility you don’t want to explore. Crawling up in a ball and shutting your eyes would be better, shutting the world out and forcing yourself to wake up from such a terrible dream.
But the sight of candy apple green eyes tears that hope from your lungs when you shudder, never expecting yourself to be afraid of him. The fear isn’t even about Brett, it’s about the limitless possibilities and outcomes of what could happen. He’s drenched so heavily in chemtrails it must be like standing too long near Chernobyl.
Feels so wrong.
“Why aren’t you talking to me? Did I hurt you?” He sounds like the Brett you love, and you’re worried he knows that, using that to get to you. He hasn’t spotted you yet, walking around and you press yourself into the brick behind you, wishing you could just disappear, dissolve into nothingness so it would all go away.
You don’t mean to, but your ankle nearly buckles isn’t the awkward position you are standing in. The sound is tinny in the darkness and silence of the rubble and his reaction is instant, eyes on you under a second.
“There you are!” Brett’s words would be endearing in any other circumstance, and he approaches. His hair isn’t as floaty anymore, but it still shifts unnaturally, like seaweed in an ocean current midair around his head in an unearthly halo. Eyes are bright green but less painfully neon and now more of a muted acid hue. You miss his eyes. “Was worried about you, baby, you sure you’re okay?” He dotes, nearly mirroring your brett as he cups your cheek.
When did he get closer?
“You seem fine, just shook up. Poor thing.” Brett coos, smiling down at you childishly in his usual manner but everything seems so unsettling, like his persona got dunked into a murky pool of liquid from a backalley at 3am. Unnatural and unsafe.
“Hey, c’mon sweet thing, talk to me.” He prods, raising your face up with his hand on your cheek and you oblige, looking up at him with fretful eyes that he frowns at. Your hands clench and fidget at your sides, entirely too overwhelmed but still needing to do something.
And it’s him in there. It’s still Brett. Just doused in chemtrails, no big deal.
“Hi Brett.”
He laughs, a giggling little sound that is usually very fitting but now a bit surreal in his current state. It remind you of glow sticks the way he shines out. You don’t like it.
“Hey there yourself,” he chimes, taking his hand in yours and squeezing, before he nearly lets it fall, his expression falling with it, “out with it, what’s wrong? You’re not smiling.”
“I don’t smile all the time.” Comes your immediate response and he clicks his tongue, brows furrowing and you regret not filtering your thoughts from words. “You don’t, but you smile around me. Tell me why.”
“Brett-“
He backs you up against the brick, looming a bit overhead and a part of it gets your bones staticky, indecisive in whether or not you wanted to kiss him or kick him.
“Use your words well and tell me why, or I’ll make another use for mouth.”
You gape, body choosing for you on the kiss him option and let him come closer, him murmuring between your lips as he closes in and cages you against his form and the shadowy enclave of the brick. “Good choice.”
Brett is all around you, a hand at the nape of your neck soothing and smoothing down the pinpricks while the other is at your side, kissing at you impatiently until he bites, humming in a pleased note when your mouth opens up and he ventures in, playing with your tongue as his hand ventures beneath your shirt, untucking it.
“Going to continue to be good for me?” He asks in your ear after breaking for a breath, marking up your throat and the underside of your jaw in bites as you squirm, the former unease in your belly turning fuzzy and warm, turning the danger into something attractive than daunting.
You nod and he squeezes tight at your hip, a warning and you answer aloud, “yes sir,” him rewarding you with a softer touch and undoing your pants as he takes them off. “Sir?” Brett laughs, shaking his head and his hair floats still, hovering like your waning rationale.
“You can do better than that. You know what to call me.”
Brett’s hand snakes between your legs and ghosts over your underwear, him practically beaming when he feels the pooling slick soaking through. “Yes Daddy.”
His eyelids flutter a fraction and ministrations falter, coming back and his eyes burn brighter and his grin in sardonic, a bit twisted. That reminder of don’t trust, don’t tell.
“Ohh that’s a new one, we’re keeping that, right baby?” He asks, plunging a digit into your cunt and holding a leg up around his hip, your chest covered and safe from the cold but waist and below is another story, trying to feed off the unnatural warmth he emanates now. “Mhmm.”
“There’s my sweet thing, smiling, all you needed was some lovin’ huh?” He asks, more to himself and aloud than anything as he preps you with his fingers, hearing the squelch and growing tired of having to angle his wrist a certain way. He tears the underwear apart.
“Just needed someone to play with your pussy and turn your brain off, right?” Brett prompts a moan from you as he breaches a second finger in and his thumb rolls over your clit, warmth flooding everywhere and your eyes flutter open to see him staring you down behind lidded eyes, glowing green deeper now that reminds you of that light at the end of Daisy’s dock in that Fitzgerald novel.
It kinda’ is a welcome home light. And you go to it.
Your hand threads through his hair and smashes his lips to yours as he groans darkly into your open mouth, excited and eager hands shift your legs around his then busy themselves with his belt buckle, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing which he more than notices. Whimpering as he tugs at your lip, he peers down at you while he lets his belt open.
“Easy f’me babydoll, daddy’s going to take care of you.”
It sounds so good in this voice, all gravelly this time ‘round and the difference sells the experience, and the way he’s shifted, using the weight he carries and taking up space rather than weaving his way through it.
“Need you daddy.” You whine, feeling his thumb over your clit rolling circles that get you throbbing, squirming between him and the brick wall behind you.
“Patience, baby, I’ve got you.” Brett drawls, nudging your nose with his as he frees his dick from the confines of his briefs and Levi’s, bobbing in the space between your legs and looking so damn good you could’ve eaten it.
Another time.
“This pretty cunt gonna’ take it all you think?” He muses into the column of your throat before angling his head against you so he can see between the two of you, one hand holding your thigh up and parting it wide while the other fists his already drooling dick in his palm, pearlescent droplets of precum pooling at the tip. “Gonna’ be good for me?”
You nod, smiling blearily in a dopey grin and run your hands over the back of his letterman jacket, and into his hair while the other slides down to lift underneath his shirt, wanting to feel him whenever you could.
He breaches your walls in a single movement and you whimper, head landing back against the brick and hear him grunt, deep from his chest as he bottoms out in you. Brett’s head hangs for a moment before he looks back to you, eyes staring from beneath his full lashes and still having that unnatural green.
“Just knew this little pussy would take it.” He mutters and snaps his hips back, hands moving to cup your ass and bring you closer so he can thrust back and forth in a punishing, cervix-bruising pace. God, you’d feel him for days.
You didn’t mean to say it out loud but he hears it nonetheless, grinning against your temple while he fucks you like a ragdoll, “that’s right, gonna shape this cute little cunt until it’s molded around my cock, gonna’ be my little toy, right? Let me play with you?”
Moaning behind kiss swollen and puffy lips, you affirm his statement and thrust your hips back into his, sending a reverberating groan through his throat out that turns into a dark chuckle, his pace slowing a fraction only to move forth harsher, the sound of skin and your debauched moans painfully loud within the silence of the destroyed structure.
“Gonna’ keep us here, you and I,” Brett begins to ramble, punctuating his words with snaps of his hips that get you seeing stars, “gonna’ breed this little cunt and get a family from you, stay here happy for the rest of our lives.”
“You going to let me give you a child, sweet thing?”
“Mhmm.” You whine, clutching at him and grinding down on his dick, a pathetic mess of yourself with slick smeared between your thighs, “Gonna’ make you a daddy.” Brett groans aloud and rewards you with a hand moving from under your thigh to your clit once more, pressing in those rolling ministrations that get you clenching awfully hard.
“Wanna’ cum Brett — I need it.” You’re rambling at this point, incoherent and cockdrunk as he plunges in and out of you, nothing but sex on the brain and none of the ramifications. It would be your problem another day, another moment, but for right now it was everything.
“Need what baby? Gotta’ speak, got that pretty voice of yours — make it useful.”
“Want your cum, wanna’ stay here with you and let you knock me up over ‘n over,” you’re spitting out words as fast as they form because you’ve barely got the headspace for anything else but cumming on his dick, “get pregnant and have your baby, make you a daddy — please lemme’ make you a family.”
He whines in the back of his throat as he bites at your neck, your words hitting deep somewhere in him and loses his even pace in lieu of fucking you frantically, practically jumping your form with how desperate he is to flood your cunt. Brett’s hand still rolls it’s thumb over your pulsing, sensitive clit.
“God yes, make a little mommy out of you, see you get all swollen and round with leaking tits to feed our kids — fuck,” he’s speaking to you in equal to the wind, voicing aloud not just his plans but his dreams, wishes to have a life with you, “cum f’me baby, gush around this cock then I’ll give you what you want.”
you mewl, squirming and bucking while chasing that high that already has begun to sprawl like white-hot lightning in your bones, curling and pooling within your belly, feeling Brett slide in and out while he punches the breath from you while prodding at your cervix.
“Gonna’- I’m going to, fuck fuckk.” Brett snaps his hips in whip-fast motions once, twice, and you’re gone. Everything whites over and fades into blank noise, like getting submerged in bath water as you shake and shudder, taking him in as he fucks you through it, suspended only by his hold.
“Fuck, you look so p-pretty,” he stutters just like his pace, falling frantic in how he chases his orgasm after yours, Brett crumbling as he finally cums and floods your cunt, slick smeared between the both of you all over your thighs and lower abdomens, white ropes and rivulets accompanying your arousal. Brett snarls out your name in a broken groan against your collar, voice deep.
He bucks his hips and mutters nonsense into your ear, milking every last drop into your silken cunt and more, “cant wait to see you all knocked up, gonna’ make you a mommy. Swear.” You’re barely conscious enough to process his words, but you do, whimpering and squirming against him in pleased, soft tones as you still have your eyes shut tight, toes curled and feeling absolutely cloudy and airy — breathless.
Brett eventually finishes emptying himself inside of you, sticking close and keeping you on his cock as you come down from your highs and blink blearily back into reality. Shifting, causing you both to groan, you reach out and smooth his hair back and get him to look at you, green glow now gone and fucked out of him as he stares up at you back to himself.
“Hi Brett.” You murmur once again, this time feeling much better about him and his safety. His arms coil around your waist as he burrows into your neck, doting kisses across your skin and soothing the burn and bite of his marks.
“Hey honey.” Brett murmurs, sleepy and lethargic now and you smooth a hand through his hair, scratching idly and getting him groaning happily against you as your other hand rubs across his back and the rough fabric of his jacket he still had on.
“Ready to get out of here?” He nods against you in response and helps you stand, soft moans and sighs passing as he slips out and you feel cum slip forth from your overfilled cunt onto your thighs. Hurriedly getting redressed, sans your tattered panties, you stand before one another and he tries to apologize but you shake your head, cupping his cheek and saying you enjoyed it.
“Hey Brett?” You ask later on, walking hand in hand back with the group on the way to Cognito Inc after regrouping. “Yeah?”
You grin, beaming at him, squeezing his hand.
“Wanna’ do that again sometime?”
He opens and closes his mouth, giggling for a second before turning back to looking at you, squeezing your hand back while his other thumbs the velvet box in his jacket pocket.
“Absolutely.”
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hxney-lemcn · 6 months
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i wanted to ask if you could do brett hand x gn! reader but angst? like stuff with his family and its getting worse. hope its not a bad idea
have a good night/ day hun!!
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summery: reader tries to cheer Brett up. They find out just what is making Brett feel down and fluff ensues.
tw: toxic family relationships, hurt/comfort
a/n: ...teehee, so I'm pretty sure this was requested like...a year ago...uh...sorry for the late upload?? LMAO! If you're still interested here you go 💀
wc: 1.2k
Master List
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I couldn’t focus on the shitty 80’s movie playing when I had Brett curled into my side. I noticed he seemed to be down at work, and offered to host a sleepover. Yes it may be childish, but after learning about Brett’s shitty family and how he never really had a childhood, I thought it would be nice. 
Brett didn’t hesitate to agree. Although his demeanor was enthused, his brown eyes still showed unhappiness. Which led to our current situation. Watching classic 80’s movies and cuddling on the couch. I kept sneaking glances down towards the brunette, his eyes glued to the tv. His head rested on my chest, and my arms wrapped around his back.
At one point, his eyes started watering, which led me to pausing the movie. Clearly something was eating at him and I wasn’t gonna just watch him suffer. 
“Why’d you pause-”
“What’s wrong Brett,” I said, interrupting him. I wasn’t gonna let him bat around the bush.
“N-nothing, why do you ask?” He deflected, eyes darting all over the place. He was a terrible liar.
Bringing a hand up, I ran my fingers through his hair, which made him relax almost immediately. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I soothed. “But I don’t want you to hold it in either. You can talk to me.” He fell limp, admitting defeat as I gently scratched at his scalp.
“It’s…” He stuttered slightly. “I-its my family.” I tensed when they came up. I’ve only met them once, and it was not a pleasant meeting. I mean, Brett literally took a bullet for his brother and he’s once again on their shit list. Which I could never understand. Brett was the sweetest man I had ever met! He listened, he cared, and he’d do anything to make his friends happy…well more like anyone happy (clearly coming from his family trauma), but still! He was an absolute sweetheart. 
All in all, I did not like his family. In fact, you could even say I hate them. I couldn’t tell Brett that though, as he still loved them dearly. Something they did not deserve. 
“What did they do this time?” I asked, trying to keep myself from letting my distaste show in my tone. 
Brett nuzzled further into the crook of my neck, “Just the usual, called me a disappointment and I never deserved to have even been considered for the 1st ranked sibling. How they don’t understand why I even bother to show my face around them anymore.”
I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. I know family is important, but if my parents did that, I’d be out the door and never come back. I have no clue how Brett could be strong enough to endure his parents' neglect and emotional abuse. I know his family is important to him, but there's a certain point that people should just cut ties.
“Oh Brett,” I muttered, nuzzling the top of his head. “My sweetheart. My sweet little boy.” Brett’s hold on me grew a little tighter at the nicknames, and I felt tears hit my neck, but I paid it no mind. “You deserve so much better. They should be the ones begging for your love and attention, not the other way round. You are so accomplished, loved, and overall amazing. You’re a boss at the shadow government, you’ve got a team who loves you! …in their weird little ways of course. Not to mention that you are just a caring and loving person.”
Brett sniffled, “Then why are they so mean?”
My heart churned, feeling my own eyes water at just how beaten he sounded. 
“I’m not exactly sure of their history, but I assume it’s because that’s how their parents treated them,” I replied, trying to think how people could be so cold to their own children. “That and a mix of them not having the capacity to actually care for you and your siblings. When they look at you, they see a commodity, not a person.”
I winced as Brett let out a sob mixed with a whimper. Did I make it worse?
“But you’re not a commodity,” I muttered, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You’re an amazing, beautiful person who deserves the love you get and even more. I know you care for your family, but I think the best thing you can do is let them go. I mean you have a work family who do care for you, who want to see you succeed. I hope I’m not overstepping, but I feel like your family is holding you back. I know you can grow so much more if you learn that their affection and approval isn’t worth the pain and hurt. Because there are other people willing to give you that affection and approval.”
Brett let a sob escape him, his arms squeezing the life out of me, but I wasn’t gonna stop him. He was babbling things I couldn’t make out, but I think it was things of gratitude and love. I didn’t need to hear what he was saying to know that he was grateful. I was just glad I seemed to have gotten through to him.
“Th-they found someone to m-marry me off to,” He stuttered. “A-and I didn’t want to disappoint them, b-but I don’t want to marry them! I want to marry you! A-and I told them that, and that's when they started t-to insult m-me.”
My eyes widened at his bold proclamation, my hand halting its ministrations in his hair. They wanted to marry him off? I guess that wasn’t out of their reach. But he actually said no? Because he wanted to marry me?! I felt myself fluster at the thought. I couldn’t help but picture us standing at the altar, or podium, in front of the sea? Maybe in the woods? I wasn’t sure where, but a beautiful place, with us exchanging our vows of love, and then becoming wedded. 
I snapped out of it when Brett’s teary eyes met mine. They were big and watery, almost like a sad puppy. He seemed to be freaking out, eyes frantically searching mine.
I cupped his jaw, brushing my thumb over his cheek, “I would be honored to marry you.”
His eyes widened, cheeks warming under my touch, a bashful smile gracing his face. A tear fell down his cheek, and I wiped it away.
“I would be honored to marry you,” Brett emphasized. 
I chuckled, feeling elated, “I guess we’d be honored to marry each other.”
Brett giggled back, the brightest smile I’d ever seen on his face, “Yeah.”
Pulling his face down, I littered his face with kisses, causing his giggles to continuously fall out of his mouth. I nuzzled our noses before leaving one last kiss to his lips. He hummed in content as I wrapped my arms around his neck, the kiss being a slow, passionate, loving one. 
“Do you wanna continue the movie?” I asked after we pulled apart.
Brett’s eyes were glued to my lips, “Could…we do that again…please.”
I blinked, an explosive laugh falling from my lips, “Brett this isn’t our first kiss.”
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